Star Trek Meets Marching Band
by Gina-chan
Summary: They may boldly go where no man has gone before, but can the (Next Generation) crew of the Enterprise survive Marching Band? Part 1 of 2 (?) up.


Cast 'o Chars:

Trumpets:

Erica

Drew

Wesley/Milan

Jerome

Johnny

Drum Major:  
Connie

Crew of the Starship Enterprise:

Jean-Luc Picard

William Riker

Deanna Troi

Data

Worf

Wesley Crusher

            "Come on trumpets! Lines! Stay in a liiine!" Drew yelled at the trumpets, who were standing in anything but a line. 

            "Okay everyone, five minute water break!" announced Mr. Burke, the director.

            "Gah!" was all Erica could mange as she put down her trumpet and walked over to the sidelines, grabbing a bottle of water and sitting down.

            "…So then I peed in the field, and the teacher yelled at me and I got Saturday school," said Wesley to the other trumpets, who also were sitting on the ground.

            "Why'd you get Saturday school?" Erica asked.

            "Indecent exposure," replied Wesley, laughing.  The other trumpets laughed, too.

Suddenly, there was a flash of bright light. Which is saying a lot, since it already was very bright and very hot outside.

            "Where the hell are we?" asked a bald man wearing a red and black uniform who appeared from…the light. There were five other people that appeared with him. 

            "Sir, I do not think this Farbild Three," Worf said, wiping his brow.

            "That is correct. According to my calculations, we are on Earth," said Data. Erica stood up.

            "Aren't you guys hot wearing long sleeves? And aren't you a little old to be doing marching band?" asked Erica to the six people.

            "Marching…band? A band of what?" asked Worf.

            "Uh, instruments?" Erica replied. The new arrivals were getting a lot of strange looks from everyone else.

            "Wait, wait. Data, how can this be Earth?" Picard asked.

            "I believe that during our last warp jump, we somehow traveled back in time. Instead of transporting to Farbild Three, we transported to Earth," explained Data.

            "Well, obviously. I don't see how that is possible, but we're here. What year is it?" Picard asked.

            "2002," Erica chipped in.

            "Thank you, uh…" 

            "Erica," said Erica.

            "I am Captain Picard, this is Commander Riker, Counselor Troi, Lieutenant Commander Data, Lieutenant Commander Worf, and Ensign Wesley Crusher," Picard introduced.

            "Hey! My name's Wesley too!" said Wesley to Wesley Crusher.

            "I thought your name was Milan," said Drew.

            "It is. But people call me Wesley," said Milan/Wesley.

            "So you're not really a Wesley. That makes me the better Wesley!" said Wesley. 

            "Ooooo…" all of the trumpets said except for Milan/Wesley.

            "I don't think so. I think I'm the better Wesley! At least I don't have hair all gelled back like some dorky guy," taunted Milan/Wesley

            "I like my hair the way it is," replied Wesley.

            "I think it's sexy!" said Erica. Wesley blushed

            "You're only saying that because you hate me!" said Milan/Wesley. Wesley kicked Milan/Wesley and he fell over.

            "Yey! Wesley won!" cheered Erica.

            "Wesley is hardly a warrior. He is a weakling. He barely survived that last encounter with Milan/Wesley," said Worf. Erica and Wesley stared at him. Milan/Wesley got up.

            "I'm going to get you," Milan/Wesley said, glaring at Wesley. Wesley glanced around, a little nervous.

"Okay everyone, back into the last set," set the director.

            "The last set? What are we setting here?" Picard questioned. 

            "The drill," replied Erica. "Are you guys stupid or something?"      

            "We all are of acceptable intelligence. None of us are what you would call stupid. We are just unaware of your customs and rituals," said Data.

            "Rituals. Right," Drew muttered as he walked back onto the field. Jerome suddenly walked up behind Erica.

            "You'd better watch out, Erica. Johnny and I are planning to steal all of your thongs tonight," Jerome said. Erica arched an eyebrow.

            "I bet you're planning on wearing them, aren't you?" she replied.

            "Oh, yea," said Johnny, as they walked out on the field. The crew of the Enterprise sat on the sidelines, intrigued as to what these "rituals" really were. 

Connie the drum major stepped onto the podium.

            "Band, aten-hut!" Connie yelled. 

            "Hut!" the band yelled back, standing at attention.

            "Data, speculation as to what this all is," Picard whispered to Data.

            "Quiet!" yelled Connie, glaring down at Picard. Picard stood up.

            "I take orders from no one!" Picard said.

            "When the band is at attention I want it completely silent," Connie replied. Picard sat down and crossed his arms.

            "Mark time four, forward march!" Connie yelled. The band started marching and playing.

            "Sir, I believe this must be some sort of military camp of some sort. That would explain this marching in the extreme heat. The building nearby also looks like some sort of military base," Data said to Picard. Picard nodded his head.

            "Captain, I'm sensing a lot of stress and despair from these people here. I think whatever it is they're doing here has a lot to do with it," said Troi. 

            "No Klingon ever has to go through something as intense as this," Worf said, watching the band. The sun was high in the sky and the temperature burning.

            "Sir, it's very hot out here. I don't remember Earth being quite this warm," said Wesley, pulling at the collar of his blue turtleneck sweater.

           "I agree. Let's get out of here," said Picard, pressing his communicator. "Picard to Enterprise." There was no response.

"Okay, take another break while the color guard sorts things out," said the Director. 

The trumpets walked back over to the sidelines.

            "Stupid color guard taking forever to figure out what to do," muttered Erica.

            "Picard to Enterprise," Picard repeated.

            "You don't get service right here or inside the school. Bad reception," Johnny explained.

            "Reception?" questioned Picard.

            "For your cell phone…I assumed you were trying to call someone, right?" said Johnny.

            "This is a school?" Wesley said incredulously.

            "You'd better believe it," replied Erica. 

Jerome walked over to Riker, who was staring at the color guard.

            "They're pretty hot, aren't they?" Jerome said to Riker, referring to the color guard. Riker continued to stare at them.

            "I figure…I'd sleep with about half of them," Jerome decidedly told Riker. Riker turned and stared at Jerome in shock.

            "Sleep with them? You're still a teenager!" Riker said. Jerome shrugged.

            "And you're probably forty. What's you're point?" Jerome replied. 

            "I am not forty!" Riker said, raising his voice. Jerome backed up a bit.

            "Okay, okay." Jerome leaned in close. "So how many of them would you sleep with?"

            "I am not a pedophile!" Riker objected. Jerome laughed evilly.

            "Well, maybe about six," Riker whispered. Jerome patted him on the back.

            "Now that's more like it," said Jerome. Johnny walked over.

            "What are you doing, Jerome? Scaring more people?" said Johnny. Jerome nodded.

            "He's always like this," whispered Johnny. Riker nodded.

            "I understand," Riker replied. 

            Connie the Drum Major walked over to the trumpets and the group of strangers.

            "Ahem," Connie cleared her throat. "I'd like to know what's going on here. Who are these people?"

Erica stepped forward.

            "Um…ah, they're new recruits!" Erica said. Connie arched an eyebrow. No one willingly was recruited for Marching Band. 

            "If they're new recruits, they need to get their instruments and start marching!" Connie put her hands on her hips. The trumpets glanced at the crew of the Enterprise. Would they be able to survive Marching Band?


End file.
